


Adventures Through Closets

by hit_the_books



Category: Supernatural, Supernatural RPF
Genre: Castiel (Supernatural) Lives, I'm Just Here Fixing Some Shizzle, M/M, Post-Episode: s12e23 All Along the Watchtower, Rob Benedict Is God, Supernatural Creation Conventions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-17
Updated: 2017-06-17
Packaged: 2018-11-15 04:39:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11223513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hit_the_books/pseuds/hit_the_books
Summary: They're meant to be on stage in two minutes.Meant to be.





	Adventures Through Closets

“You’re not God, Rob! Get the hell back here! We’re on in two minutes!” Richard Speight Jr. screamed after Rob Benedict, but the adorable dork wasn’t listening to him, instead continuing to power on further into the depths of the hotel. They’d left the green room a while ago and were definitely nowhere in the vicinity of the back area of the stage.

A doorway loomed in front of them in the endless hallway. Tall white wooden double doors with furls and gold leaf detail. They kinda stuck out, because nothing in this particular Hilton had resembled anything like this—they were the kind of doors that might lead to a ballroom in some palace. Rich was still trying to figure out why Rob had suddenly stormed off, and when questioned answered that he was God. Like, okay, Rich got it, the dude had played Capital-G on the fucking show. But this made no sense.

The lights in the hallway flickered and Rich felt like someone had tipped a cup of ice water down his back. He shivered and felt his stomach clench. Something wasn’t right.

“Rob?” Rich whispered.

Rob slowly turned his head and looked at Rich. His eyes were glowing blue and white. “Rob isn’t home right now.”

Not-Rob turned away from Rich and raised his right hand towards the massive white doors and they started to open outwards. Piercing white light blasted out from them, forcing Rich to cover his eyes with his arm. The inexplicable cold was replaced with the feeling of being on fire and feeling like he was in the depths of Antarctica.

Rich tried to scream, but he couldn’t hear himself.

Then the light was gone and Rich lowered his arm, finding himself and Rob stood inside of what looked suspiciously like Heaven as portrayed on _Supernatural_. Rich’s eyes went wide as he looked at the sleek white and gray surfaces, trying to figure out just what the hell was going on.

“This way,” Not-Rob ordered, and led the way out of the plain room they had appeared inside. Too shocked to do otherwise, Rich followed Not-Rob.

Not-Rob walked fast, legs powering him at a preternatural pace that forced Rich to jog in order to keep up. They were in an endless, lit up, corridor that looked the same as the room they’d been in. They could still be in the hotel and Rich could be having some kind of breakdown, but Rich had the feeling all of what surrounded him was real.

They encountered no one else until they reached a cross section in the corridor. Some guy in a plain gray suit and white dress shirt and black tie stopped when he caught them out of the corner of his eye.

Some dawning of understanding settled on the man’s face and he stepped out of the way and bowed his head. Rich still didn’t know what was going on and he really wanted answers before he had a heart attack or was committed somewhere.

“What are we doing?” Rich hissed.

Not-Rob didn’t bother turning around as he replied, “We’re taking a shortcut.”

 _A shortcut? But to where? To what?_ Rich continued to jog after Not-Rob until he finally started to slow down. They’d reached some nondescript gray door and Rich suddenly realized the whole corridor was filled with them. Not-Rob turned the gray handle on the door and opened it, stepping inside. Rich followed him.

It was a clothing closet. Rich was about to say something, when Not-Rob closed the door and then opened it again.

The corridor wasn’t outside of it, instead they were stepping into someone’s house from a bedroom closet. It was night. There was a mural on one wall that Rich could only just make out in the room’s darkness. The name “Jack” was painted on the wall in big letters. Things started to click into place, but surely they were just on an abandoned set, right? Not in _the house?!_

Not-Rob looked to Rich, eyes glowing a little. “Come.”

And so Rich followed again. They stalked through the upstairs of the house, and heard someone who sounded suspiciously like Sam— _no, Jared, it can’t be Sam…_ — talking to someone in another room, but Rich couldn’t make out the words.

They headed downstairs and as they stepped out, Rich felt a breeze coming from the lake. Denial started to crumble inside of Rich as he looked down upon the form of Dean Winchester cradling Castiel’s lifeless body.

He must have heard them approach, because Dean sprung up onto his feet and leveled his favorite handgun at them. Eyes flicking between the two of them, Dean looked more than a little confused as he asked, “Chuck? Gabriel?”

 _Oh, right_ , Rich realized, _he probably thinks I’m the angel_. He gave Dean a small wave of his hand. “Actually not Gabriel… but, uh,” finally giving into everything, Rich smiled and continued, “but he is definitely Chuck. Apparently.”

Clouds shifted away and moonlight streamed onto the scene. Tears glistened on Dean’s cheeks and Rich felt his heart go out for a guy who he’d thought was fictional until about ten minutes ago.

“Chuck?” Dean asked again.

Not-Rob-Chuck-Most-Probably-Capital-G stepped forward and squeezed Dean’s shoulder. “How?”

Dean chuckled darkly. “Lucifer.”

“Where is he now?”

“In an alternate apocalyptic dimension with my mom.” Dean pointed to some air six foot from him. There was nothing there. “Lucifer’s kid opened some kind of rift between realities.”

Not-Rob spoke in a language that Rich did not understand, but it sounded a lot like swearing.

“Okay, let’s deal with one crisis at a time.” Not-Rob knelt down beside Castiel and placed a hand on his forehead.

Suddenly Castiel’s eyes flicked open and the man—angel—started around wildly at Dean, Not-Rob and Rich. He sat up. “What is going on?”

Not-Rob got back on his feet and looked pointedly at Dean. “It’s a gift. _You keep those_ ,” he said angrily.

“Chuck?” Castiel asked, but got no answer. Not-Rob instead stepped towards the space where Dean had pointed out to a moment ago.

Rich started to walk closer and then thought better of it. He stopped and watched Not-Rob push his hand through the air. Through reality and then dragged something—someone—out of thin air and into existence.

Mary Winchester stood beside Not-Rob, panting. Thoughts of moving through time and space tried to crowd into Rich’s head, but he swatted them away. Not-Rob let go of Mary and waved a hand over the spot of air he’d pulled her out of.

Seeming to spot Dean, Mary suddenly wrapped her arms around him and then Castiel. Rich felt like he was intruding, but he stayed where he was.

Turing around, Not-Rob started to walk back towards Rich. “Time to go,” Not-Rob announced to Rich, then he shared a look over at the Winchesters. “And you better look after my grandson.”

Without further exchanges, Not-Rob led Richard back into the house, past Sam’s mutterings, and into the closet. And then they were back in Heaven and finally—the hotel again.

The massive white doors closed behind them and Rich finally took in a deep breath and asked, “So, uh, where’s Amara?”

“Three universes over… this was the easiest one to jump from.” Not-Rob turned to Rich and smiled. “I’m heading off in a minute.” He raised a hand to Rich’s forehead. “Sorry, but I didn’t intend for you to come with me, it just sorta happened… So I can’t have you remembering any of this. But keep an eye on the guy, okay? He’s got a such big heart, and I think too many people forget that.”

“How’ll I remember to do that if you’re about to wipe my memory?”

“Oh, you’ll remember.” Not-Rob touched Rich’s forehead and the past thirty minutes was gone.

Rich opened his eyes and stared around the hallway and looked to Rob. “Dude, we took a wrong turn! We’re meant to be on stage in two minutes!”

“Crap, sorry. C’mon, this way.” Rob grabbed Rich’s hand, and Rich gave him a reassuring squeeze, which earned him a grin from Rob. Then Rob led him through a set of double doors and they ended up at the back of those seated in the panel hall.

The audience saw them and started yelling as they jogged up to the stage and Louden Swain started to kick into gear. Microphones were held out for them. Phoenix was waiting.

The show, of course, must go on.

**Author's Note:**

> Why did I write this? Why is it so... out there?
> 
> Because [SPN Coldest Hits](http://spncoldesthits.tumblr.com/post/161216626635/junes-prompt-posting-dates-15-18th-of-june).


End file.
